Order of the Grim
by Synky
Summary: Based off of J.K. Rowling's short prequel, Sirius and James find themselves stopped by the muggle police while under pursuit by a few death eaters on broomsticks. They manage to escape but not without consequences.


_Author's Note: Hello everyone! This is my first fanfiction story and it is based off of J.K. Rowling's short prequel below. It was originally handwritten for a charity event in 2008 and I thought it would be fun to write a story based off the prompt. I'll try to write as much as possible when I can but no promises! Enjoy!_

 _Disclaimer: I did NOT write the very beginning of this chapter. It is the work of J.K. Rowling which I expand on afterwards._

 **Part 1: The Sun Sets**

The speeding motorcycle took the sharp corner so fast in the darkness that both policemen in the pursuing car shouted 'whoa!' Sergeant Fisher slammed his large foot on the brake, thinking that the boy who was riding pillion was sure to be flung under his wheels; however, the motorbike made the turn without unseating either of its riders, and with a wink of its red tail light, vanished up the narrow side street.

"We've got 'em now!" cried PC Anderson excitedly. "That's a dead end!"

Leaning hard on the steering wheel and crashing his gears, Fisher scraped half the paint off the flank of the car as he forced it up the alleyway in pursuit.

There in the headlights sat their quarry, stationary at last after a quarter of an hour's chase. The two riders were trapped between a towering brick wall and the police car, which was now crashing towards them like some growling, luminous-eyed predator.

There was so little space between the car doors and the walls of the alley that Fisher and Anderson had difficulty extricating themselves from the vehicle. It injured their dignity to have to inch, crab-like, towards the miscreants. Fisher dragged his generous belly along the wall, tearing buttons off his shirt as he went, and finally snapping off the wing mirror with his backside.

"Get off the bike!" he bellowed at the smirking youths, who sat basking in the flashing blue light as though enjoying it.

They did as they were told. Finally pulling free from the broken wind mirror, Fisher glared at them. They seemed to be in their late teens. The one who had been driving had long black hair; his insolent good looks reminded Fisher unpleasantly of his daughter's guitar-playing, layabout boyfriend. The second boy also had black hair, though his was short and stuck up in all directions; he wore glasses and a broad grin. Both were dressed in T-shirts emblazoned with a large golden bird; the emblem, no doubt, of some deafening, tuneless rock band.

"No helmets!" Fisher yelled, pointing from one uncovered head to the other. "Exceeding the speed limit by – by a considerable amount!" (In fact, the speed registered had been greater than Fisher was prepared to accept that any motorcycle could travel.) "Failing to stop for the police!"

"We'd have loved to stop for a chat," said the boy in glasses, "only we were trying —"

"Don't get smart – you two are in a heap of trouble!" snarled Anderson. "Names!"

"Names?" repeated the long-haired driver. "Er – well, let's see. There's Wilberforce… Bathsheba… Elvendork…"

"And what's nice about that one is, you can use it for a boy or a girl," said the boy in glasses.

"Oh, OUR names, did you mean?" asked the first, as Anderson spluttered with rage. "You should've said! This here is James Potter, and I'm Sirius Black!"

"Things'll be seriously black for you in a minute, you cheeky little —"

But neither James nor Sirius was paying attention. They were suddenly as alert as gundogs, staring past Fisher and Anderson, over the roof of the police car, at the dark mouth of the alley. Then, with identical fluid movements, they reached into their back pockets.

For the space of a heartbeat both policemen imagined guns gleaming at them, but a second later they saw that the motorcyclists had drawn nothing more than —

"Drumsticks?" jeered Anderson. "Right pair of jokers, aren't you? Right, we're arresting you on a charge of —"

But Anderson never got to name the charge. James and Sirius had shouted something incomprehensible, and the beams from the headlights had moved.

The policemen wheeled around, then staggered backwards. Three men were flying – actually FLYING – up the alley on broomsticks – and at the same moment, the police car was rearing up on its back wheels.

Fisher's knees bucked; he sat down hard; Anderson tripped over Fisher's legs and fell on top of him, as FLUMP – BANG – CRUNCH – they heard the men on brooms slam into the upended car and fall, apparently insensible, to the ground, while broken bits of broomstick clattered down around them.

The motorbike had roared into life again. His mouth hanging open, Fisher mustered the strength to look back at the two teenagers.

"Thanks very much!" called Sirius over the throb of the engine. "We owe you one!"

"Yeah, nice meeting you!" said James. "And don't forget: Elvendork! It's unisex!"

There was an earth-shattering crash, and Fisher and Anderson threw their arms around each other in fright; their car had just fallen back to the ground. Now it was the motorcycle's turn to rear. Before the policemen's disbelieving eyes, it took off into the air: James and Sirius zoomed away into the night sky, their tail light twinkling behind them like a vanishing ruby.

 _Author's Note: The rest of this story is my work. Enjoy!_

o-O-o

The wind rushed through James' hair as they sped away from the wreckage left in the fading alleyway below. The three death eaters would be badly injured by the collision, and a report had to be made to the order.

The policeman was right, they were in serious trouble.

Not only had Sirius and himself left the death eaters behind in the alley, they hadn't dared risk taking the time to obliviate the muggles.

At any moment the death eaters could come to after the collision and take their heads off. It was better that they both get out of there and back to headquarters as quickly as possible.

Although Dumbledore would be furious with their recklessness, he would order a team to dispatch to the location and evaluate the damage. And hopefully make sure the muggles hadn't been murdered or worse, escaped to tell the non-magical world.

It's unbelievable that the ministry managed to keep the recent giant attacks covered up, thought James. It had been covered up quickly and the muggles believed it to be a storm that passed over. Weather reporters were baffled by the irregular weather patterns.

James shook himself. It wasn't important to him anymore if magic was revealed to the world or not.

All that mattered to him was Lily, and the child that would be arriving in 9 months time.

James swelled with excitement at the thought of having a child to care for. A human he could raise and teach. A pronglet.

He hoped it was a boy. Yes, a boy would be ideal. They're easier and James would be able to closely relate to him on a personal level as opposed to a girl.

James held on tighter to Sirius' waist as the flying motorcycle accelerated and started descending. The headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix must be close now, and a report had to be made.

o-O-o

"Let me get this straight," said Dumbledore in a calm, yet threatening voice. "You were stopped by muggle police while escaping from death eaters, and levitated the car to act as a barricade between yourselves and our foes? Then left without cleaning anything up?"

He didn't yell, but the disappointment could be heard behind Dumbledore's words.

"Yes," replied Sirius.

"Do you understand the seriousness of your actions, the ministry could have you both arrested for breaking the laws of the statute of secrecy," Dumbledore said, "We must take immediate action to make sure this doesn't leaked to the press."

"Understood," said James.

Dumbledore sighed, the war was really getting to him, "Alastor, perhaps you and Benjy can take a look at the damage? Let me know if there's any sign of the death eaters."

Alastor Moody gave a short nod and walked away. Benjy Fenwick, a young brilliant wizard, followed to provide Alastor with backup in case the death eaters were still there.

Dumbledore glanced around the room. The Potter family had provided a nice estate that the Order based their operations out of. The warm glow provided by the candles in the room created an inviting atmosphere.

They had moved most of the furniture out of the room to make space for all the members in the Order. And had one large table in the center that was littered with papers of the group's various plans for defeating Voldemort.

The plans ranged widely from gathering information from within the ministry to tracking down known death eaters and exposing the spies that hid among them.

Dumbledore knew there was a spy in the Order, but not who. He had made himself secret keeper of the estate when putting it under the fidelius charm so that the location couldn't be revealed to the death eaters.

Unfortunately, the biggest threat to the Order wasn't the death eaters. It was the ministry.

The ministry wanted to shut down the Order because they were afraid that if the Order succeeded in defeating Voldemort, then the ministry would be the next target for the not so secret organization.

It was a shame, thought Dumbledore, working alongside the ministry instead of independently would be very beneficial to both parties. But he knew the security risks were too great, and the ministry as a whole would never cooperate entirely.

It was more than likely some ministerial departments were already under the control of the death eaters anyway. Not only last week it had been reported that seven officials of the Department of Magical Transportation had been found under the imperius masking the death eaters movements.

A silver wisp flew through the window at that moment taking the shape of a lion, Alastor's patronus. It opened it's mouth and spoke in the familiar low growling voice, "It's a trap, send backup immediately!"


End file.
